 | Richard Dooling - 1996 - 264 էջ
...Keats. As a medical resident, he realized the poem was about a physician overcome with sleep lust. Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou...groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And... | |
 | Aidan Day - 1996 - 217 էջ
[ Ներեցեք, այս էջի պարունակությունն արգելված է: ] | |
 | John Keats - 1997 - 226 էջ
[ Ներեցեք, այս էջի պարունակությունն արգելված է: ] | |
 | Richard Bradford - 1997 - 215 էջ
[ Ներեցեք, այս էջի պարունակությունն արգելված է: ] | |
 | Nicholas Roe - 1998 - 344 էջ
...arising from the cramped and unhealthy conditions of city life, as a burden afflicting all humankind: The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where...groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies . . . (23-6) Here Keats modifies the symbolic associations... | |
 | William Harmon - 1998 - 386 էջ
...mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: III Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou...groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and specter-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And... | |
 | Connie Robertson - 1998 - 686 էջ
...adieu: and aching Pleasure nigh. Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips. 5498 'Ode to a Nightingale' e papacy is not other than the ghost of the deceased...upon the grave thereof. 4640 Leviathan The praise grey hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and Where but to think is to be full of sorrow... | |
 | Mary Oliver - 1998 - 212 էջ
...mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou...each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of... | |
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Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave... 
